


High-speed Pride Chase

by leyline



Series: shorts on tumblr [8]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, Deputy Derek Hale, Deputy Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Police Officer Derek, Police Officer Stiles Stilinski, Undercover, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-24 00:25:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4898389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leyline/pseuds/leyline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek hates pride. Just his luck he and his partner have to attend it undercover to catch a criminal they've been chasing for months.</p>
            </blockquote>





	High-speed Pride Chase

Derek’s just pretending to nod along with the sports section of the newspaper when a snort shakes his attention off the corner he was surreptitiously watching.

“Seriously, dude? The Daily Beacon?”

“I’m blending.” He mumbles, his eyes now shifting between his partner and the people dancing by the jukebox near the grass.

“Yeah, man, you’re managing to do it like a carrot in a bowl of potato chips at a kid’s party.”

Stiles shakes a pink glass filled with something that seems to be fruity drink in front of his face, the liquid inside dangerously threatening to spill as he does it.

“I’m not drinking that.”

Stiles rolls his eyes and Derek tries to pry his eyes away from the movement of his deft, slender hands when Stiles subconsciously uses them to adjust the shorts he’s wearing. 

Derek learned to believe that dolphins are the evilest but he still can’t believe Stiles is wearing _golden leather shorts_. 

Worse, he can’t believe he actually pulls them off. Jesus, Stiles’ ass in those things is a felony by itself and Derek knows Stiles’ felonies well. He’s been his partner for five years, after all, and a deputy for even longer.

Sometimes it’s a dream, like when Stiles is antagonizing a suspect in the interrogation room and Derek gets to watch his partner bring somebody else to the verge of madness that is not Derek himself; sometimes it’s hell, like now, when he’s forced to go undercover at freaking pride to catch a criminal whose trail they’ve been chasing for months now (and still, all they know is the guy’s name –Danny Mahealani–, that he graduated top of his class, MIT, and that he’s been seen every year at Beacon Hill’s Pride without fail).

He’s never really felt the spirit of it, not when people tend to wrinkle their noses or foreheads in confusion when he voices his sexuality, though he’s damn proud of it. It adds that he never really did know how to party as he grew up and he tried it once, but he just ended up standing on the sidelines and borderline being a creep staring at all the twinks (Stiles’ words, not his, and totally false, because at that pride two years ago –way before they had the info on Mahealani– all Derek could see was Stiles’ legs in a freaking skirt and all he could feel was his own heartbeat.)

“Well, you better do something about the fact you’re standing out like an elephant in a sunflower field because my next plan is to start making out.” Derek makes a show of quickly taking the drink and then hides his smile behind the cup’s rim when he sees Stiles flipping him off. The drink tastes like strawberries.

It’s infuriating that it’s actually his favorite.

“Any sign of our mark from over there yet?” Scott’s voice comes over wireless earpiece they each have attached.

“Please stop talking like our job is a bad spy movie.”

Stiles whispers, pretending to pick at some loose thread on his shirt. It’s a stupid gesture. Stiles’ stupid shirt is some kind of golden leather and it has no thread at all.

“What’s good staying in comms if I can’t?”

“Shut up and heal your fractured leg.” Derek answers Scott, raising the newspaper momentarily higher so as to hide his mouth.

“Yes, honey. You always do have the best advice.” Scott says, making kissing noises over the earpiece.

“You can’t see it but I’m flipping you off.” 

“Drink your Martini, Derek. Which is, coincidentally, your favorite. Right, Stiles?”

“Shut it, comm-boy, or I’ll get you an arm cast to match your leg’s.”

“How do you even identified a drink from all the way over there?”

“I’m a detective.” Derek’s about to protest that _no Scott, you’re not a detective yet_ when Scott suddenly serious, says “Wait, I got eyes.”

“We know, they’re brown and beautiful?” Stiles states, tone confused.

“Thanks, dude. But seriously, I see him. The mar– The guy! Our guy! He’s by the fountain!”

“Should have brought a vest.” Derek complains through clenched teeth as they watch Danny Mahealani look around as if he’s looking for someone. 

He’s sure Stiles noticed that too so none of them say it.

Stiles puts his hand on his shoulder and squeezes once before pulling back. His touch stays imprinted even after gone.

“Relax. You think he’s going to come out here with a bunch of assault rifles? It’s not like he’s a mafia don.”

“He’s a hacker, Stiles. He’s dangerous.”

“Totally subjective. He stole money from a huge corporation run by a tyrannical douchebag.”

“Are you honest–…? That’s my uncl– You’re a police officer!” 

Stiles shrugs. “Justice’s not black and white, dude. Sometimes it’s not as easy as criminals and innocents.”

Derek can’t say he doesn’t agree, but he’s not about to have a deep meaningful conversation with Stiles about morals while he’s out here in such a public place. So at least now, he goes for what’s he comfortable with. He goes for quick banter.

“I can’t believe you’re a sheriff’s kid. Something out there’s a sucker for irony.”

“Shh Frowny, he’s doing something.”

Derek rolls his eyes at the nickname.

They both watch as a man appears next to Mahealani, touching his forearm lightly to gain his attention. Derek vaguely hears Stiles slurping down the rest of his own drink.

The man gets closer to their mar– Dammit Scott. The man gets closer and whispers something in Mahealani’s ear, which makes him throw his head back and laugh.

The guy, dark brown hair a little stylized as to be upwards and messy, casually dressed, reaches into his bag and pulls out a camera. Mahealani steps forward and they both look down at it, foreheads almost touching.  
  
It would seem like flirting to Derek, if not for the subject in question. 

“Dude, I think I know that–“

Stiles is about to say, but then Mahealani looks the guy in the eye, nods once and suddenly it all happens at once.

Mahealani hands the dude what looks to be two flash drives and then they each run their separate ways.

“Shit, dude, he saw us!” Stiles says at the same time Derek stands up, Martini sadly all but forgotten, and runs after them with Stiles right at his heel.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have made yourself a little too hard to miss.”

“Don’t flirt with me _now_ , Derek, I’m running!”

They run through the crowd, forcefully pushing people out of the way –a hard task when a lot of them are on heels– and yelling BHPD. Derek moves on Mahealani since he’s the one closer to him.

“Get the other one!” Derek yells.

“That’s Matt Daehler!” Stiles yells back, but Derek’s too busy to answer, legs already pumping furiously towards Mahealani.

He loses sight of Stiles and Matt, focusing on Mahealani’s running figure, that’s now making its way across a small park far from the stage and the makeshift bars. 

Derek barely manages crashing into a couple of girls who are body painting random people in the crowd, though he does cringe when he feels one of their paintbrushes brush the entire length of his left arm but he doesn’t dare look down. Mahealani brings them right into the middle of a large crowd, who are excited and screaming and probably haven’t even noticed that Derek’s waving his badge at them but he doesn’t let that distract him.

He’s almost to Mahealani. 

Sure, the guy is fast as hell, he did lacrosse in high school and ran track like someone who could have made a professional career out of it (and instead the guy decided to become an outlaw. Such a shame) but Derek’s not far behind in physical matters, he did basketball and track in high school too after all, and he’s the most assiduous presence in the BHPD gym.

Mahealani turns suddenly when Derek’s about to reach out and pull him back and that’s when Derek collides with something. 

Or rather, something collides with Derek.

He feels water running down his entire torso and staining the front of his shirt (why did Stiles insist he wear white!).

He’d been so intent on catching Mahealani that he hadn’t given much attention to his surroundings.

He looks around and that’s when a second balloon hits him right in the back of the neck, water flowing all the way to his hair and shoulder blades. The third balloon hits him dangerously near his crotch and that’s when Derek notices he’s freaking shining.

There’s a water balloon fight going on and the water is freaking filled with glitter. 

People seem to take his inaction as an incentive and gang up on him and before he knows he’s drenched from head to toe and not even raising his arm and yelling at them to _stop! He’s a police officer on business!_ stops them.  
  
He finally manages to curse his way out of the park and catches sight of Scott, who’s already up ahead (where there’s little to no people, though the beginning of a crowd is starting to form) next to a cruiser slapping some cuffs on Danny Mahealani.

Derek huffs in frustration. Then rolls his eyes again (he seems to be doing that a lot lately) because Scott’s in a freaking cast but he’s still holding himself up by one of his crutch and how the hell did he manage to catch Mahealani like that?

Scott is already grinning when he gets there and Derek points a finger at him in warning.

“Don’t. Say a word.” 

Scott makes a zipping up motion near his mouth then says “Just wanted to let you know that Boyd came in. He says they’ve been working together this entire time.” He informs Derek, head nodding towards Mahealani then Daehler. 

Derek nods. “How did you even…?” He gestures towards them both.

Scott smiles turns loopsided and his chest puffs out a little. “I like, kinda ran him over.”

“Oh, god.” Derek grunts, already thinking of what the Sheriff’s going to say about this. At this point it’s pretty much a given situation.

He turns to Mahealani and points at him next “You’ll pay for this.”

“Worth it.”  Derek hears him say as he rounds the cruiser to see Stiles also putting cuffs on Daehler. Stiles is effectively drenched as well.

Stiles catches his eye, then his eyes make the descent down his entire body and Derek has no time to even brace himself.

Stiles breaks out in loud laughter, almost losing his grip on the actual criminal he’s arresting.

“You’re not better yourself.” Derek grits out through clenched teeth. “The hell happened to you?”

“This asshole pushed me into the fountain.” Daehler answers.

“Hey, that’s Officer Asshole to you.” Stiles says, snapping the cuffs shut.

“Let’s get the hell out of here so we can hopefully never come back again.”

“What’s up with that?” He hears Mahealani ask Scott and why aren’t they getting in the cruiser right now? God. 

They’re attracting attention!

“He hates pride.” Scott shrugs casually, like they’re all having beer at a freaking pub and its Wednesday and Erica is debating whether she’ll eat the peanuts at the bar or not.

“Really?” Daehler pipes up, just as casually, then turns to Derek “You allergic to fun?”

“Nope, just bright colors and glitter.” Stiles cuts Derek off who was about to say something, grinning.

Derek scowls at him as he nudges Scott, who moves back, and tightens the cuffs on Danny himself. For safety purposes. “I’m not getting lectured on fun by a third time felon.”

Danny huffs then says “Two.”

“They dropped the charges the first time.” Daehler and he smile sweetly at each other when they say so at the same time. Derek can’t believe this.

“I hate you.” Derek tells Stiles because this whole operation was his idea –Derek’s starting to analyze why now– even though he did promptly agree to it.

“You love me.” Stiles sends a wink his way.

Derek’s tongue works to expel the words he can never get out.

“I know, big guy.” Stiles says, half-serious all of a sudden and it throws Derek off  “Don’t worry, I talked to dad about in-office relationships and he’s cool about it. Slightly exasperated, but cool.”

Stiles puts Daehler on the back of the police car as he says it, like it’s that common. Like it’s that simple. Hell, maybe it is. Maybe it was all along. Stiles is his partner after all. Has been in every way for a while now.

Derek’s still gazing at Stiles in wonder when Danny groans.

“Oh god, not the heart eyes. Please just put me in the back of that cruiser.” 

Which makes him a bit of an hypocrite since he was just doing it with Daehler. 

“Dude, Miranda rights? Remain silent, for christ’s sake, don’t ruin our moment.” Stiles turns to Derek with a wide grin “By the way, what he said? That’s gonna be my line to you in a few hours.”

Derek feels his face grow hot, which is effectively shut down when another cold water balloon hits him in the shoulder.

“Sorry!”

“Nice shot, Greenberg!” Scott calls out.

“I hate pride.”

They hear a camera shut and Derek turns to fix Scott with an intense glare. Scott just shrugs, hardly trying to hide his crooked smile.

Stiles swipes a hand on Derek’s shoulder and his finger comes away twinkling.

“I love pride.”

“Me too.” Daehler muffled voice screams from inside the car.

Stiles does not open the door to high five him on his handcuffed hand. He doesn’t, he’s on duty.

(He totally does).

Guess Derek’s stuck with Officer Asshole for a long time.


End file.
